WIP

[teffy]

Sometimes Pam thinks Jim's parents house is haunted, but then she has to remind herself of two things. One, that it's not Jim's parents house anymore it's their house. And two, that there are no such things as ghost.

The first one's easy enough. It sure doesn't look like Jim's parents house. They repainted, bought some new pieces of furniture, and Pam raided the Target clearance aisle for frames, and table lamps, and those weird candle holders that Jim hates because they somehow look
like feet to him.

The second part is harder. Especially when she sees the ghost for the first time. She doesn't tell Jim, but while weeding their small flower garden the single mom who lives next door confides in her that her son is acting strange. Seeing things.

"I've told him not to be worried about it." She says, admiring Pam's azaleas. "He's convinced we live in a haunted house or something."

Pam tries not to let the surprise show on her face. "Kids are like that. I'm sure it'll be okay."

Then, the boy next door disappears and no one knows why. Even though they'd just moved in a few months ago, they've gotten to know everyone in the neighborhood pretty well and Pam feels sorry for the nice couple. The police come and question them, but no one knows anything, and they all try not to acknowledge the creepy things that have been happening.

After the police, for some reason, two FBI guys show up.

"Hi, there. I'm Agent Waters this is Agent Gilmore. We're investigating the disappearance of Johnny Delson from next door."

They flash their ID badges and Pam worries that she and Jim might be suspects. Like they collect little boys in their basement or something and because they have chocolate pudding snack packs in their fridge they're going to be accused of trying to lure children into
their home.

But then one of them smiles and it's reassuring. He's tall and long limbed in a kind of Jim-esque way, but she's sure he's probably much taller. "We just want to ask you a few questions." He murmurs.

She lets them in and offers to get them something to drink. They refuse at first but she insists, just like her mother taught her. While she's in the kitchen she sticks her head out the back door.
Jim's on the patio shooting hoops.

"Come inside! The FBI is here." She hisses.

The basketball goes sailing into the net and Jim grins. "Mrs Halpert if you want me all you have to do is ask."

"I'm serious." She glances back over her shoulder. "They're asking questions about the boy from next door."

The smile on Jim's face disappears and she's kinda sad to see it go. "Wow. Really?"

She nods and motions for him to hurry up.

He follows her inside and she grabs the two glasses of water and takes them back out to the agents. They both smile politely and she introduces them to Jim.

He shakes their hands and sits down. It's kinda funny to try to take Jim seriously when he's sweaty and wearing gym shorts, but she's glad he's with her now.

"So, we're just following up on this investigation. Making sure there are no loose ends. Did either of you see or hear anything last weekend?" Agent Waters asks.

She looks down at Jim and he just shrugs. "No, nothing really."

The other agent leans forward a bit in his seat. "Are you sure? Anything at all. Even if it seems unusual."

Pam wonders if she should say something about the ghost. Maybe it wasn't a ghost. Maybe it was a man. The kidnapper. If it wasn't just her imagination it could have been someone that was dangerous. "Well, I..." She begins. "I think I might have seen something a few nights ago. But I can't be sure because, um, it was really strange."

Jim just looks over at her and arches an eyebrow. She hasn't told him this before.

The taller agent nods. "It's okay. Anything you saw would be helpful."

"There was a man." She continues. "I swear I saw him in our house, but I mean that couldn't have happened, right? He looked...really dirty. And angry. I remember he looked angry." She shuddered. "But I blinked and he was gone. I thought I imagined it. Maybe it's the guy you're looking for."

The Agents shared a look with each other and she was sure they thought she was crazy. "It's very important." Agent said. "Did this man...did he say anything to you?"

Pam frowned. "No. I don't think so. He might have been moaning?" She broke off with a nervous laugh. "Honestly, I thought he was a ghost at first."

Jim smiled reassuringly to ease the tension but she looked back at the Agents and their faces were set in determination.

"Well thank you Mrs Halpert. Mr Halpert. We'll be in touch if we need anything else." They stood to leave and Jim walked them to the door. When he came back she was slumped against the back of the couch, mulling over what had just happened.

Jim put his hands on his hips and shook his head. "I cannot wait to tell Dwight that the FBI came to our house."

*****

She hears a noise that night and wonders why Jim's not in the bed next to her. If he's up at midnight again just to play Guitar Hero she's going to kill him. She shuffles downstairs and the scream gets stuck in her throat. Jim's on the floor and there's someone, no, something
standing over him.

"Jim." she mouths and even though she didn't say anything the thing's head shoots up.

"Pam!" Jim's voice is faint, but it's a warning and he holds out his hand palm up as if he could stop her.

She backs away slowly, but the thing has seen her now and it drops Jim onto the floor. He doesn't move much after that.

This time the scream tears from her mouth, the fear bubbling up inside of her. She wants to run, but can't and that's when the front door is kicked open.

"Get down!" Shouts a voice and she does, crawling closer to Jim and wincing when she hears gunshots.

Her face is buried in his neck and she pants, listening to the silence that follows the shots.

"Are you...okay?" Jim whispers.

She lifts her head up slightly. "Yeah. You?"

He closes his eyes and nods. She sits up, looking around the living room for the dead body. She's sure there's a dead body. All she finds are those two FBI agents, now dressed in plainclothes, one holding a shotgun and the other a knife. A knife?


She brushes her fingers along Jim's neck. She's sure there should be bruises there, but he doesn't have a mark on him. "What...?"

Jim just shakes his head and he sits up, wrapping his arms around her and holding on tight.

She looks up at the two men standing there in muddy boots in the entrance way Jim and his brothers painstakingly tiled when they first moved in. "Who are you?" She asks angrily.